Dirty Deceit
by SittinOnACornflake
Summary: Perhaps, Captain Sparrow, the compass isn't pointing to the map at all. Perhaps, the thing you want most, is me...
1. Prologue

**Summery:**

Secrets are made to be found out with time. And after being caught up in a whirlwind of treachery, betrayal, and a certain dishonest pirate captain, Jacolby learns that three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. She can only hope she isn't one of them.

_Light up, light up  
As if you have a choice  
Even if you cannot hear my voice  
I'll be right beside you_

-Snow Patrol (Run)

The harmless drops of rain that abruptly appeared on the deck of _Satan's Thunder _had, in short time, developed into a full-scale storm. To the crew, this particular storm was fitting to a ship with such a name, for it could only have been Satan who released this type of wrath. The ship was rocking terribly, swept up in the constant surging of the waves beneath it as they rose to their peaks, only to seclude swiftly back into treacherous valleys. The air had turned thick and musty as the wind whipped water in all directions. And for one particular crew member, with each breath the storm seemed to close in around her. It was as if she were drowning among the whirl of turquoise and onyx that swirled below. Her knuckles were growing white and her arms beginning to shake from having to constantly hold them up. She stood with her legs spread apart, bracing herself amidst the rolling of the ship, as she tried to refrain from slamming into the mast. She held her head at an angle trying to keep the rain from whipping in her eyes. The hat she once possessed would have given relief and much needed shelter from the merciless storm, but as of now that was not an option anymore.

Thunder cracked overhead and lightning struck, drowning out the sound of the whip landing on human flesh. She counted in her head as the whip struck repeatedly, sending specks of blood flying into the air, blending in with the falling rain. She refused cry out, to utter a single sound; although, the crew around her wouldn't have been able to hear her even if she did. The men around her grinned maliciously, watching intently, as the whip continued descending upon her back. With every lash she arched her back, trying to lessen the pain; digging her nails into the palm of her hand, creating four crescent shaped wounds. At twenty, the whip stilled. She tensed, waiting, but twenty-one never came. She hung her head, and sagged her shoulders, defeated, letting the rain, landing like needles on her bare skin, cleanse away the array of blood.

The weather today has transformed into increasing treachery followed by undeniable betrayal.

Cade reached up and with one swift motion with his dagger, cut through the bindings that bound her to the mast. Shaking and unable to hold herself up, she fell to the deck; her arms aching as she lowered them, the blood returning to her limbs. Two of the men reached forward, wrenching her up to a standing position. Struggling to get away, the men gripped her arms more forcefully; the rest of the crew watching, chuckled to themselves, amused at her pathetic attempt to escape. It was no use. Lifting her head, she watched as the crew began to part, making way for the Captain. Hat perched upon his head, hands clasped behind his back; he walked forward monotonously, grinning wickedly as he saw her face cringe slightly, almost unnoticeably, with every step. The rain landed on the brim of the hat he wore, and cascaded downward falling to the deck. After what seemed like an eternity he stood before her. Squaring her shoulders, she looking into the Captain's gray eyes, revealing nothing of what she felt inside. Looming before her the Captain struck. A fist collided with her jaw. She felt her lip split. Blood trickled mockingly down her chin, as it flowed inside her mouth. But before she could recover a second blow was dealt, then a third, knocking the wind out of her. And finally a fourth. But unlike the others, relief came swiftly; in the form of the black abyss.

**Disclaimer:** I regret to inform you that I do not own Captain Jack Sparrow, or anyone else that appears in the movie for that matter. Single tear

**A/N:** Since this is just the prologue the chapter is short, but they will get longer. Ye be warned. Please R & R!


	2. Pirate Indeed

_Rest your trigger on my finger;  
bang my head upon the fault line.   
Better take care not to make me enter.  
'cause if I do we both may disappear._

-Tool (Pushit)

It was a crisp summer morning. The wind had already begun to wisp quietly among the buildings, blowing dust amid the numerous wenches, finished with their nights work; the drunks, passed out cold, rum bottles still grasped tightly in their hands; and a man, adorned with a tri-cornered hat, weaving skillfully, despite a drunken sway, amidst the chaos. Clouds adorned the cyan sky, as they floated lazily overhead; the sun's rays flirting between the puffs of white, shining gently on a crowd gathered before a scaffold. However, unlike the rays of sunlight, the crowds of men were anything but gentle. Standing no less than an arms length away from each other, each man greedily fondled the money that was held tightly in their sweaty palms. The energy and exuberance of the crowd grew more intense as the seconds passed. It was about to begin. From among the crowd, a man stepped out, the smirk present on his face revealing the absence of most of his teeth. The smirk grew wider as he searched the crowd, avidly eyeing the money the men clenched in their hand. "Gents…" He barked loudly so everyone would be able to hear him. "Let the auction begin!" A deafening roar sounded from the crowd, shillings clinking against one another, a sound of ecstasy to the auctioneer's ears.

A look of aversion made itself apparent on Captain Jack Sparrow's face. Normally Jack tended to steer clear of slave auctions; however, today he had no choice, to some extent. After all, with a few hours to waste while the crew finished their rendezvous and their rum he figured he'd take a gander. Hardly able to hear the auctioneer over the roar of the crowd, Jack buffed his fingernails against the front of his shirt as he pondered what his next action would be. As it turned out the rumors were true. Santiago had, in short time, become a haven for pirates and home to a black market nearly as large as Curacao. It was in this infamous black market Jack had acquired a map, a map that was naught but a legend among pirates in the Caribbean. It had been a run in with an old acquaintance, as it were, that had sparked the idea in the first place, considering the fact that Isla de Muerta was sent to the depths many months ago. Now, all he needed was the key. But key or not, this treasure would be his. After all, he was _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. Chuckling to himself and grinning idiotically Jack looked around silently appraising himself for his quick wit, realizing that the men around him had grown peculiarly quiet, waiting for something, or someone, impressive.

The sound of the auctioneer's voice cut through the air like a knife. Instead of the usual roar, he spoke somewhat softly, creating an aura of suspense among the men. "Th' moment 'as come gents, th' bitch you 'ave all been waitin' for." With a wave of his hand two men brought out a woman, struggling gallantly to get free of her bindings. The men bellowed gleefully as the woman was dragged up onto center stage, her hands bound behind her back and a rope tied around her neck, forcing her to lean over slightly, giving the men a view they immediately took advantage of.

"Ten shillings!" barked a particularly ragged man immediately, grinning wickedly.

Jack stared intently at the woman as the auctioneer continued to try and raise the price. This girl was particularly muscular for a woman, despite the fact she was rather petit. Her hair was the color of burnt sienna. A few disheveled strands that weren't trapped by the cloth that tied them back framed her tanned face. She has a strong jaw, one set with determination, despite the situation.

"Twenty-five!" cried another unkempt man in the back of the crowd.

She was outfitted in maroon breaches, a white tunic, and black vest which showed off the two main reasons the men were paying such a high price. Her ensemble was topped off with a tattered, worn out coat and black unpolished boots, which rose to just below her knees. To the men gathered before her, she looked as if she could play the role of a pirate. Jack snorted disbelievingly. _Pirate indeed, _he thought to himself. It figures they would dress her up to make a bit more profit.

"Forty!" a deep voice boomed maliciously from a rather well dressed man, "forty shillings!"

The auctioneer could hardly keep the glee out of his voice as he finished off the sale. "For'y shillings…goin' once, goin' twice…"

"A 'undred!" a voice called out roguishly.

The crowd grew impeccably silent in awe of what they just heard. Jack looked around the sea of men, a slight smirk present on his face, as the men stared right back. The auctioneer stood in shock, his mouth hanging agape, in total astonishment. Never before had he been offered a hundred shillings for a woman.

Jack cleared his throat. "A hundred shillings for the girl," he slurred again, gesturing with his hands. His eyes found the auctioneer. "Is it a deal or not mate?"

"SOLD!" The auctioneer cried out elatedly, "A 'undred shillings for th' bitch."

Jack pressed his hands flush together bowing slightly to the auctioneer. Sashaying to the side of the scaffold, Jack smirked as the girl tried adamantly to free herself from the grasp of the two men escorting her off the platform. She was quickly cut short when a blow was landed behind her knees forcing her to fall forward.

One of the men chuckled to himself. "Bow down t' yer new master, lass." With that they let go, nodding slightly to Jack as he tossed a bag of shillings, and a particularly valuable trinket from Isla de Muerta, to one of the men. Reaching down, Jack grabbed the girl firmly by her arm, noticing her split lip and bruised eye; he placed a hand under her chin, tilting her head up slightly. When she was forced to look up her eyes widened slightly in surprise, the corners of her mouth twitching, hiding a smile.

This man, Jacolby thought distractedly, was most definitely a pirate; although, he had to be the most eccentric men she'd ever laid eyes on. His hair was unruly to say the least, seeing as how, for the most part, it was wind-blown into dreadlocks, the rest that had remained untangled was firmly braided, held by strips of leather. Variously colored beads, both glass and wooden, embellished his hair, as well as what seemed to be a pristine chunk of bone, and trinkets that she couldn't manage to identify. All of this was succumbed by a strip of well-traveled red cloth, tied securely under an aged tri-corned hat. He had a shortly trimmed beard, which did not disappoint, for at his chin it was divided into two somewhat uneven braids, a few beads strung onto the bottom of each one. His body was adorned with a sheathed cutlass and well made sword from the looks of it. A pistol was also tucked away into a faded multi-color sash tied around his waist. His hands, which seemingly had a mind of their own, were enhanced with numerous rings and random strips of cloth as they floated about. But it was the eyes, his eyes that were truly captivating. Rimmed with kohl, his eyes were deceptively dark, giving off the impression that they were black.

As she continued to scrutinize the undoubtedly peculiar man that stood before her, Jacolby noticed his kohl-rimmed eyes narrow, looking her over. Regardless of this blatant fact, Jacolby tried to remain confident and composed showing no emotion. Then the man began to step closer, closing the gap between them. She took a hasty step backward, almost tripping clumsily over her own feet. The man grinned at her antics, but said nothing as he unsheathed his cutlass, reaching around her for the ropes that bound her hands, cutting through them swiftly.

Now that her hands were finally free she rubbed the skin around her wrists, which had grown raw and were bleeding slightly. At this point, Jacolby was becoming very aware of her surroundings. She muttered a string of curses inaudibly as she slyly gazed around, looking for an occasion in which she could slip away and escape. She could feel herself shaking as adrenaline rushed through her body, preparing for the opportune moment. Rage soon accompanied the adrenaline as the man who had bought her unashamedly took advantage of his view.

The weather today is an increasing trend toward escape.

Realizing that opportunity had presented itself, Jacolby quickly reached in the man's sash and came out holding his pistol, cocked and ready to fire. Jacolby smiled triumphantly backing away into the horde of men until she felt the cold barrel of a pistol on the small of her back.

"Ah, perfect timing Mr. Gibbs." Jack said smugly, grinning as he saw the look of astonishment on the girl's face. He bowed slightly in thanks.

"Cap'n, th' Pearl be ready t' set sail."

Jack smirked, sashaying over, narrowing the gap once again between him and the girl. As he came forward, Jack felt the pistol touch his chest. He inched forward until there was nothing but his pistol separating the two. Jack raised his hand, teasingly brushing his fingers down her neck until his hand came in contact with the pistol. Coaxing the pistol out of her hands and replacing it in his sash, Jack leaned forward slightly, whispering quietly in her ear, "You've got spirit, love, I'll give you that, but if you try and pull a stunt like that again, _Miss Riker_, I just might not be able to restrain myself from a temptation such as yourself." His hand swiftly wrapped around her waist pressing her flush against him, his eyes darkening dangerously, "Savvy?"

Jacolby winced as Jack's hand ignited a surge of throbbing on her back. But as quickly as the grimace appeared, it left. Unfortunately Jack didn't miss it, but decided to remain silent about the matter. "Aye…Captain Sparrow"

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement, love." Jack suddenly let go. "We'll have to get you cleaned up when we return to the Pearl." At this Jacolby did react. She jerked out of his hold, fixing her deadliest glare upon the man in front of her.

"I'm afraid that you'll be returning to your ship without me, Captain." Jacolby stated with as much dignity and authority as she could muster.

Once more Jack started walking towards Jacolby, who was starting to resemble a cornered animal. "I really must _insist_ that you accompany us, Miss Riker. After all, you have a debt to pay off, a 'undred shillings, if I remember correctly. At this, Jack's hand reached out and grabbed Jacolby's arm. She knew that trying to free herself from this grip would result in humiliation.

Signaling to two of the crew men who had appeared beside Gibbs, they grabbed Jacolby and escorted her down to the ship. The captain and his first mate remained silent as they watched Jacolby being lead away.

When the three had disappeared from sight, Gibbs leaned toward Jack, whispering his forewarning. "I've said it before, Cap'n, but I'll say it again, 'tis bad luck to have a woman on board."

"Ah, fortunately, I know how to counter it," Jack took out his compass, looked at it quickly. Grinning cheekily, Jack turned towards Gibbs, holding the compass before him. "I believe Mr. Gibbs, we have our heading…" Gibbs glanced at the compass, realizing to where exactly it was pointing, and what this meant. Closing the compass with a snap, Jack placed it back in his pocket.

"Aye, Cap'n" Gibbs stated, a wicked grin forming on his face, matching his Captain's "that'll about do it."


End file.
